Leaving Home and Returning
by Ultra-Violet-Star
Summary: My version of A2A series 3. Sorry if it's rushed or riddled with spelling errors but there will be more to come if you feed me reviews!
1. Chapter 1

**Easy To Forget?**

**_This is a fanfiction set after the long awaited series 2 finale, which despite what other people might think, is one of my fave A2A episodes so far. I decided to write the events that take place after Alex returns home. It's kind of like my version of Season 3. If you like it, please review and you will get more._**

It was still early. Light crept through the crack between the hanging curtains that shielded the room from the worst of the sun's early (but far from weak) rays.

A woman lay in the large bed that took up a great deal of the space in the room, tucked underneath the duvet, curled up into a ball. Her hair spread out over the pillow, a dark brown against the white fabric. Her skin was just as white, just as pale, as she tossed and turned in her sleep.

"Alex. Alex. Wake up Alex."

She slowly opened her eyes, still dazed with the lingering effects of sleep. Lifting her hand to her face as she brushed hair out of her eyes, she sat and looked around the room for the source of the calling.

"Alex. Can you 'ear me? Wake up."

She swallowed nervously and her stomach flipped. She knew that voice anywhere, even though it was sounding more desperate, more urgent than she had ever heard it before.

The room was empty. There was nobody here except her good self. She was about to settle down and try hopelessly to sleep again when the voice called to her.

Turning her head, she looked sideways, at her alarm clock. The voice was coming from her alarm clock.

"Gene?" She whispered fearfully, as though he might hear her. She hadn't heard that voice for three weeks, since she woke up in hospital-

"Alex. Can you 'ear me?"

"What do you want?"

"Alex. I've got to be quick, I'm not s'pposed to be 'ere. I 'aven't got long till yer nurse get's back."

Alex shied away from the voice, curling under the covers in the vain hope that it would go away, leave her in peace.

She knew it wouldn't.

"Alex, I don't know whether you can 'ear me but I need for you to wake up. They still think I shot yer- well, I know I did, but they think…look, I need you to wake up. I need you awake and happy and mental as usual. You and me, Bolls, yeah?"

There was a silence. For one second, she thought it had all ended, and she emerged from the shelter of the covers timidly, sighing in short- lived relief. Because soon after, the voice came again, louder than ever.

" Wake up, Alex. Alex!Alex!"

She groaned and tugged the covers over her head once again, curling up in the dark, waiting for silence. This couldn't be happened. When she woke up, she thought she was finally free, in 2008, not tugged between two lives, the life here and now with her daughter, and the life in the eighties with Shaz and Chris, Ray and Gene.

"Mum? Are you awake?"

When Alex lifted her head, she saw a figure in the doorway, shrouded in shadows. The figure stepped into the light, holding a tray and bearing a wide if not slightly unsure smile.

Molly.

"Morning, Molls. " She greeted her softly, watching as her daughter carried the tray towards her and rested it on her beside table.

"Are you alright?"

Alex brushed a strand of her daughter's hair off her face with a smile.

"I'm fine, Molly." _Except for the voices I keep hearing telling me to wake up from a coma._

With a slight cough, she smiled in the direction of the tray.

"So what's this?"

Molly grinned proudly and offered her mother the tray.

"Breakfast in bed. I made you toast, with your favourite jam, and I brewed some coffee, just the way you like it."

Alex smiled outwardly at Molly but was silent as she reached over and lifted the flower that had been on it's own in a simple glass vase. It was a rose, crimson as blood, the thorns pressing into her palm as she turned it round, as if searching for something.

She remembered the roses on her desk, the scattered petals, their smell, overpowering and sweet- she remembered how, for just a short length of time, she had thought he had sent them…why would he? She asked herself. Why would he even think about giving her flowers? Why would she even consider that the flowers were from him?

"Mum?"

Molly stood uncertainly, staring at her mother, waiting for her to speak. Alex swallowed, setting the rose back down on the tray and placing it on the table.

"It's lovely, Molly,"She said when she had found her voice, pulling her daughter closer. " Thank you."

She was silent as she stroked the young girl's soft hair and sighed peacefully. Gene wasn't real. This was real, here and now, with Molly. This was what mattered now.

Glancing over at the alarm clock warily, she bit her lip and hoped it would be easy to move on and forget.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Review if you want to find out what happens next. xox_**

Alex sat quietly at the dining room table. The house was painfully silent, bar the humming of the fridge. It was 9 a.m. She was dressed simply in navy trousers and a red shirt. She had dropped a reluctant Molly off at school, standing at the gates with a smile as her daughter waved frantically amidst her friends. It had been raining furiously but she had given her daughter the umbrella and walked home in the rain, barely registering the icy hail of water on her skin.

But now there was nothing to do. She had been told that she was being given 2 months to recover from her ordeal, longer than usual as her boss had suspected she would want time with her daughter. Even then, she would have to have counselling, to talk to someone or write to them, like Sam had. He had recorded his story and wrote it down. She had listened and read it and deduced he was mad. Those were the days.

Tracing her finger around the rim of her coffee cup she sighed. She longed to be at work, where she was distracted from her thoughts.

What would she be doing now, if she was still in a coma? She would be at work. There would be a case, probably. Gene would be filling them in on the facts, with the odd scornful comments added by the others. Ray would be leaning back relaxing in his chair, feet propped up on the desk, until Gene glared at him to remove them. Chris would probably be sat on his desk, or on Shaz's. And she…she would be right in the middle of it all. Busy.

But it wasn't real, after all. Wasn't it? Was now real? Was then real? If she was really back in time then both were technically real, weren't they? Both times would have happened, would be happening.

Alex sighed loudly and ran her hands through her hair, stopping in her tracks. She couldn't get used to her hair. Back to being straight, instead of her soft curls, thinner slightly were they had operated, although it was growing back rapidly. She missed her old hair, even if it wasn't real. Looking in the mirror in the mornings, she considered waiting for her hair to grow a little more and go to a hairdresser and change hair styles. She knew it wouldn't be the same.

Nothing was the same. Still, she was here and even if this was a dream, a part of a coma, it was a good dream- she was with Molly, after all.

She could move on. She was here and she was now. She wasn't in a coma, she wasn't in a coma, she-

"She's in a coma, Chris."

Alex almost jumped out of her skin. Her heart began to beat furiously. For a second, she thought she had made a mistake in her hearing. Alex sat, frozen, straining as her blood ran cold, praying she had misheard. Until it came again, a man's voice, but this time, much louder. It reverberated around the kitchen.

"Why're you whispering?"

"Be quiet, Chris!"

"Why? She can't hear us!"

"You don't know that," The woman's voice was slightly indignant but cheerful with hope.

Alex stood up abruptly. The chair clattered to the wooden floor with a loud bang. She barely noticed. Pacing and straining desperately to hear, she searched for the source of the voices.

She soon found it. Stalking into the living room, she immediately spotted the flickering image on the large television screen across the room. After a second, the image steadied and became clearer. On a screen that usually displayed children's programs and rom-coms, the faces of her past colleagues blinked back at her.

"Well, how do you know she can hear us?" Chris asked, folding his arms and staring right at her. Alex gaped and sank onto the sofa's cushions.

"I dunno, do I? Think I saw it once on one of those hospital's programs last year, d'you remember?" Shaz was sat beside her, perched on the side of the bed. Alex could see the top of her head, nestled against the stark, white hospital pillow. She could just make out the outline of her body tucked underneath the sheets.

"So…she can hear us?" Chris asked, looking around stupidly as if for spies tucked behind the drawn curtains.

Shaz nodded.

"Maybe. I think so. Why?"

"But I don't know what to say."

Alex saw Shaz roll her eyes with a grin

"Well you'll think of something."

She stood up to leave, the image shaking slightly. Chris grabbed her arm in panic.

"Wait a minute, where are you going?"

"I'm dying for a drink, darlin'. I won't be long. See you in a minute, Ma'am."

"What do I do?" Alex couldn't help but smirk at Chris' terrified face.

"Talk to her. If she's hears you she might wake up!"

Shaz disappeared from view. Alex heard the doors swinging then closing with a thump. She climbed off the couch and moved closer to the screen, curling up in front of the television, waiting as she had found herself doing so many times before in 1982.

"Chris…." She muttered, watching as he folded his hands together nervously in his lap, glancing over at her worriedly at her. After a second, he pulled the chair closer. Alex got a better view of her young colleague. He looked quite tired. Alex found herself wondering why. She wished she could ask him, considering voicing her thought aloud, before remembering he couldn't hear her at all.

"You can't hear me." Chris interrupted her thought. He was leaning his chin on his hand, looking at her thoughtfully. "Can you? I know Shaz said she saw it on that program but the Guv says that's all a load of bollocks…" He coughed, embarrassed. "Has he come to see you? Not that he could, I s'pose, eh?"

"Why not?" Alex asked aloud, "Why couldn't he come and see me?"

"But you won't know about all that will you, Al-Ma'am," He corrected himself hastily. He seemed more comfortable now, despite his embarrassment.

"Why would I?" Alex muttered, waiting breathless in case he eventually chose to divulge any information instead of babbling on.

"'Cos the Guv, you know, he's in trouble Ma'am. Lying low 'till you wake up." He paused. "Is that going to be any time soon. Ma'am? Last time I saw him he 'ad a face on 'im like a dog's arse."

Alex snorted with laughter.

"See, they think he shot you on purpose, Ma'am. Cos that woman, the blonde one, she's the only witness and Ray reckons she's gonna milk it for all she's worth, he does." He shifted. "Never trusted her. Nostril's are too close together. Never trust someone like that, eh?"

There was a silence as Chris scratched his head and yawned.

"Everything ok?"

Alex straightened at the unfamiliar voice. Chris looked towards the daughter and smiled briefly. A second later, a nurse popped into view, leaning over and surveying Alex. She moved her hands forward and Chris watched whilst Alex presumed the nurse checked her pupils. The image flickered and blurred; Alex moved forwards immediately and pressed her fingers against the screen as the picture changed to a plain black screen, before the playful sounds of whatever program Molly had been watching replaced the silence. Alex tapped the screen as the childish characters skipped around the screen, laughing and smiling. She found herself missing the old picture more than she could have imagined and the life they lived. The life she had lived.

She was right. Nothing was the same anymore.


End file.
